


Any Port in a Storm

by Noceu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crying, Do Not Archive, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 15:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15342474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noceu/pseuds/Noceu
Summary: “Huh, I’m--” Martin hesitated again and Peter’s lips curled in a grin. “Is it okay if we swap places? I’d like to hmmm...”“Fuck me into the bed?”





	Any Port in a Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Unfuck_yourself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unfuck_yourself/gifts).



> A little gift for my dear friend because we both need more consensual Peter/Martin in the world!

“I have to admit, kid, this wasn’t the first thing I thought you’d do when you saw me in the Archives,” Peter said, in between lifting his ass off the floor and driving Martin’s cock deeper inside him. 

His thighs burned with the effort it took to repeatedly drop over Martin’s legs. It was a good kind of pain, the kind he relished for how damn long it took to get to. It’d be over soon and he’d be left yearning for more. That was just how it went.

Maybe one day he’d be free and he’d look for something else. Probably more. Peter didn’t know, and today was not that day.

“Huh. I mean, you kinda scared me and I wasn’t-- oh, that’s… nice, that’s really nice,” Martin replied and the kid’s politeness amused Peter; it was so endearing.

Martin’s free hand stroked him, up and down -- fingers almost tentative, despite having his cock up Peter’s ass -- and that endeared him, too. “Oh? Well, I aim to please.”

They gasped together when he pulled up, until only the swollen head of Martin’s cock was left inside of him, and slowly -- painstaking slowly -- let gravity do its job. Martin watched, and Peter watched him in turn, his eyes narrowing when Martin’s face twisted with pleasure and his mouth parted with a moan. 

Peter bit down on his bottom lip and he devoured the sight with a kind of hunger that surprised him. He didn’t Behold, but he’d been starved of this for  _ so long _ . 

Martin looked wonderful. He was a long, searing pressure that throbbed from the inside out, ramming Peter's prostate just right. His hair was plastered over his forehead and he whimpered and flushed pinker with every little twitch of Peter's hips. 

“Go on,” Peter encouraged, he couldn't keep his gaze off Martin's lips, staring with all the intent of a predator stalking its prey. “I'm not going to break.” His legs were splayed open around Martin's waist and his own dick bounced between them, head glistening. 

When he felt Martin's balls brush his ass cheeks, Peter arched. The motion forced Martin maybe half an inch deeper, until they were skin to skin. His breath caught and he had to fight not to let his eyes droop, had to remind himself he wanted to watch.

With no room to move, Peter wiggled his ass, feeling Martin tremble beneath him. It was a glorious thing. 

It hurt beautifully. Too deep, too stretched. The parts of him that were never meant to be touched, caressed from the inside out in a way that was both uncomfortable and just so  _ good. _

“Come on, Martin,” Peter drawled out the name, tasting each syllable on his tongue.  “You feel so good inside me.  _ Harder. _ ”

Martin hesitated, and any other time, that would’ve frustrated Peter. Now? He found that he really didn’t mind it. He could wait; hadn’t he always done that? Besides, it was  _ cute. _ The way Martin palmed up Peter’s thigh; the way his fingers massaged the sweat-slicked skin; the way his belly tensed and he looked down every time Peter clenched his muscles. 

Really cute. 

“Huh, I’m--” Martin hesitated again and Peter’s lips curled in a grin. “Is it okay if we swap places? I’d like to hmmm...”

“Fuck me into the bed?”

Martin’s reply, if it could be called that, was a breathless nod and an erratic jerk of his hips, up and forward, not quite managing to drive his cock any further into Peter, but nudging it against his walls. It was delightfully restrained by their position, just good enough that Peter craved  _ more _ .

“That’s not something I usually do,” Peter admitted. Not that much of a confession, but he still spoke it very slowly, tasting salt in the air around them with every word. “But you’ve been so  _ good to me, so very good _ .” Peter started to pull away, hissing when Martin’s cock slipped out of him with a wet pop.

“Touch yourself for me.” It wasn’t an order, it was barely a demand and Peter hadn’t noticed he’d said it until his own voice rung in the cabin. That was  _ odd.  _ Not entirely unpleasant but  _ interesting. _

Martin keened softly and blushed a lovely dark red, reaching down between his legs to touch himself while Peter stood back. He saw dark blond hair curling across Martin’s pelvis and his cock -- almost shyly erect, if that was even possible -- peek through. Watched as Martin’s hands idly stroked it, his eyes avoiding Peter’s for more than a moment at a time.

_ Cute. _

“Yes, keep going like that. I bet you’re enjoying yourself,” Peter said; the sight sent warm shivers up his spine.

His knees ached and when he finally stretched out on the bed to lay beside Martin, he just had to remind himself that he wasn’t some young fool anymore. And that this wasn’t just another anonymous fuck he’d picked in some backwater port across the globe. 

When he noticed him looking, Martin seemed to stop. Peter saw his fingers still and twitch, splayed on his hip. He noticed the way he clenched in a relaxed off-rhythm. Too  _ close. _

“Don’t stop on my account, we’ve got plenty of time to continue,” Peter said, voice low, amused and yes -- still thoroughly endeared.

“It’s uh, not that… I just… I’m not-- n-not gonna last that long,” Martin mumbled so quietly that Peter had to strain to hear. When Peter’s hand reached for him, his fist curling around Martin’s cock, Martin practically sobbed, body taut as a wire.

Actually sobbed. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and Peter thought that he wasn’t the one making Martin cry.

“Or we can always go again, if that’s what you wish,” he added quickly. Admittedly, it had been a long time since he’d dealt with such a delicate lover or cared to soften his blows . “You can come now, if you want. Or you can fuck me and come deep inside of me.” He paused. “It’s all up to you.”

It wasn’t an option he’d given any of the others, it wasn’t even an option he’d given himself, and Martin didn’t need to know any of it.

“I’m-- a-are you sure that’s okay?” 

Peter kissed him then, balancing on one elbow and leaning to capture Martin’s lips with his own. The mattress creaked. It was their first-- his first in a very long time. Isolation did funny things to people. Fucking was all in the motions and kissing was too intimate to bother with.

But then Martin kissed him  _ back _ and he couldn’t regret that, could he?

Peter ran his tongue across Martin’s bottom lip, hoping that his stubble wouldn't burn the kid too badly. Not that Martin seemed particularly concerned with it. 

Martin kissed enthusiastically enough that it nearly gave him whiplash, but Peter wasn't about to bring it up and he liked this side of him; the one that kept running his palms up and down Peter's body as he forced him to move. Until finally he was on his back on the bed and Martin knelt between his thighs, and his mouth had moved to pepper kisses down Peter's jaw and across the curve of his throat. 

Peter actually heard himself whine when he stopped. “I'm sure whatever you decide is fine, Martin,” he groaned, a touch out of breath, his hand on Martin's cock and then reaching for his own. His fingers where just long enough he could slide their cocks together, heat on heat, completely still. 

Martin's cheeks were damp, tears glistening stark against his flushed skin. When he leaned back, Peter felt his hips rabbit forward and he squeezed their cocks, grinning still. He was getting close, biting backs on little jolts of electricity pleasure that coiled in his belly. 

It was too soon. Peter tightened his grip over their cocks, forcing the heads to slide together, only to relax immediately when he heard Martin choke out a scream. 

“I'm sorry, ” Peter said, but he wasn't sure if he meant it or not. He couldn't remember the last time he'd genuinely apologised. “Did I hurt you?”

Martin was shaking his head. His hair was plastered all over his face, long enough that it tickled his skin. “N-no, I just… I… Is it okay if I, uh, fuck you?” So polite, so damn cute. 

Peter exhaled quietly as he let go of their cocks. “I'm pretty sure I just offered.” He ran the flat of his palms down Martin's forearm, unable to reach much further in his position. “I'm also pretty damn sure I'm going to enjoy having your cock back in me.”

Despite having been thoroughly prepared maybe ten minutes earlier, when the very tip of Martin's cock breached him, Peter hissed. It was that good kind of pain again, an ache that turned into a searing, tingling fire that washed through him as-- oh yes, as he was fucked open. 

“So good,” Peter heard himself say, encouraging and soft. Not at all like him. Huh. “Keep going Martin, your dick feels so good in me.”

Martin was barely inside him, maybe halfway through, rocking back and forth gently - - it wasn't comfortable; it wasn't even amazing just yet, and Peter opened his legs, spine arching and one ankle hooking over Martin's shoulder because he needed more-- deeper, harder, faster-- when Martin stiffened all of a sudden. He didn't know why until wet heat flooded his ass and Martin slipped back out with a squelch. 

There was no way he could've stopped his brows from tensing and his mouth from curving downward slightly. The scowl was gone as soon as Peter had been conscious of it, though probably too late. 

“I'm so sorry, oh my god.” There was genuine terror in Martin's voice, Peter noticed. He scrambled backwards, away from Peter. 

Oh dear. Peter sat up, lube and semen dribbling down the inside of his thighs and staining the sheets. He tried to reach for Martin, but he'd just put as much distance as possible between them, flattening himself against the wall by the bed. He thought he heard Martin whimper. 

“Come now, Martin. I may be a monster but I'm not that kind of monster. And when I said no harm would come to you, I meant it.” He patted the empty spot where Martin should've been, and then, when that still wasn't enough, lifted one arm to beckon him closer. “Come on, I promise you've done nothing to be afraid of.”

Martin seemed to perk up slightly, and his fingers brushed Peter's hesitantly. 

“Are you sure? I totally just-” Martin shook his head and Peter thought he saw tears glisten down his cheekbones.” I ruined it…”

“You didn't ruin it,” Peter chuckled quietly. He caught Martin’s wrist between two large fingers and tugged him towards his chest. “Besides, it’s not like you won’t be able to go again soon, I’m sure.”

“I- I just… I didn’t…” 

Peter stroked Martin’s pulse in a motion he hoped was sufficiently soothing. It seemed to work, because after another moment, Martin let himself drape against Peter, the back of his head resting on Peter’s collarbone. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he breathed into Martin’s ears, his tongue lapping across its lobe, teeth nibbling gently.

The way Martin reacted was wonderful and exactly what Peter was hoping for. Martin straightened, arching against Peter’s mouth. “Oh-- I-- yes! It-- you’re amazing,” he gasped and Peter saw him reach between his legs to stroke his softening cock. “It was r-really really good, I’m-- wow, I’m just wow.”

Peter laughed. It wasn’t something he got told  _ often  _ and that made it even better. How could he hope to give this up? “Well, Martin, I’m glad you think so.” He bit down harder, catching Martin when slumped all the way, moaning softly.

“Would you like to help me out, then?” Peter asked as he brought the tips of his fingers to rest against Martin’s parted lips. He could use lube, but what would the fun in that be? Besides, it wasn’t like he  _ needed _ lube.

“Um? Yeah, I’m not--” 

Martin’s mouth was warm and tight and soft, and though a part of him wanted nothing more than to grip Martin’s hair and move him towards his throbbing cock. Peter did nothing but run fingers across the flat of his tongue, groaning at the jolts of pleasure that shot up his arm. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that’ll hurt you. All you have to do is watch. Can you do that for me, Martin?”

He didn’t need to look to  _ feel _ the way Martin nodded with Peter’s fingers still halfway into his throat, not quite deep enough to gag him. Peter could’ve easily pushed past that threshold and he thought it spoke volumes of  _ how much he liked Martin  _ that he didn’t.

For a moment after he pulled away, Martin looked confused and Peter kissed that stupid expression on his face. 

“Just get back a bit, yes, like that.” 

Peter stifled a sigh as he watched Martin move away, kneeling next to him. It wasn’t that he didn’t  _ enjoy _ this part, just that he would’ve liked to come with Martin deep inside of him. But well, he wasn’t about to scare him again. “You can touch me, if you want,” he murmured, laying back, legs splayed open, knees bent in a way that he was definitely going to feel tomorrow.

It seemed to take Martin a couple seconds to realise what Peter was about to do. In fact, it wasn’t until Peter caressed the tight ring of muscle in his own ass, turning his wrist and pressing  _ inside,  _ that Martin reacted. 

“Peter you don’t have to-- h-holy fuck,” the words fell from his lips all at once. “Y-you’re great.”

Peter gave him a grin, but he was too busy finding that-- oh  _ yeah. _ “Now would be nice,” he breathed. He had two fingers up to the knuckle in himself, moving and stretching and curling against his prostate, over and over, until he could feel his cock dribble precome against his own belly.

“Peter--” 

It wasn’t that Peter had never finger-fucked himself -- he had and he was plenty loose already from their previous activities -- but the way Martin watched him -- the fucking expression on the kid’s face was beautifully bashful. Peter didn’t think he’d seen anything quite so  _ edible  _ in his lifetime. 

White hot pleasure thrummed under his skin, stretching upwards from his lower spine. It was dizzying and when Martin finally got the hint and lowered himself to take the head of his cock in his mouth, Peter moaned so loud the sound surprised them both.

“Keep going, you’re doing great,” Peter tried to sound… well, more encouraging he already was, reaching with his free hand to grip the base of his cock, holding it for Martin and squeezing hard to keep himself from coming too soon.

In the corners of his vision, he saw little colourless, sparkling dots; felt them move and grow and practically blind him, the deeper Martin took his cock and the more fingers he managed to push inside himself.

It really didn’t take very long to nudge that searing fire in the right direction: a few thrusts of his fingers, teetering between pleasure and pain. When he pressed his thumb to his palm and forced himself to take all of it, the pressure was overwhelming.

Peter could only make sure he didn’t try and suck Martin into an alternate, endlessly  _ empty _ , dimension as he got closer. It was like riding an invisible wave: Martin sucked gently, the tip of his tongue doing  _ things _ to his cock just as Peter jabbed his prostate, stretching his ass too far too quickly, the burning sting pushing him over the edge.

It was  _ perfect _ . And Peter didn’t bother trying to warn Martin away -- though he didn’t hold him down either -- so that when he finally came, he was slightly amazed that Martin was able to swallow all of him down.

Peter patted his leg, smoothing his hands across whatever part of him he could reach-- gently stroking fingers over slick skin. 

He wasn’t aware of Martin jerking against him until he felt warmth on his side and turned, eyes semi-shut, to see him shaking in the afterthroes of his own orgasm, again. Then they collapsed together, with Martin half strewn across Peter’s chest, breathing heavily.

“Fuck,” Martin said. His lips were overly red where he seemed to have bitten himself. “Peter-- I-- fuck.”

“Yes,” Peter agreed. He let his legs down very slowly. His muscles ached and he knew he’d have trouble sitting tomorrow, not enough preparation to almost taking his entire fist, combined with being overly rough, but still, it’d been good-- much better than he could remember any of his other fucks being. “You’re so very good, Martin.”

Too spent to move, Peter was pretty damn content to let Martin curl against him as they slowly rode the aftermaths of their orgasms. He shivered as Peter wrapped one arm loosely over his hips, tickling his thighs with his hand. After a minute or two, or ten, he reached up and weaved their hands together, squeezing Martin’s reassuringly.

They needed a shower sometime soon, and the sheets needed to be changed, but for now, he was more than happy to just… stay; to just breathe.

The curtains had been drawn shut before they’d started, but he could just sense the sun coming up through whatever supernatural sense he’d been imparted with, alongside Isolation. He knew -- was certainly aware -- of the way Martin would soon try to run and that for one reason or another, he’d miss him. 

He’d actually miss Martin.

“You don’t have to go just yet, nothing will happen to you,” Peter found himself saying. He’d never offered anyone this kind of… immunity before, huh. “Dawn is here and I’m sure you’ll want to rest.”

“I don’t--” Martin paused, moved a little closer, snug against Peter’s body. “I don’t want to be a problem.  _ T-to you, I mean.” _

He faced away and when Peter smiled against his shoulder, he knew Martin couldn’t see his expression. “It’s not like this kind of thing hasn’t happened before,” he murmured, kissing Martin’s skin. “Stay, you won’t be a problem to me. Besides, I can tell she likes you already.”

“She?”

“The ship,” Peter explained. His first instinct was always to hide the connection, so he found himself wondering what had changed -- Martin was special in his own way. “Can you feel her? Here.” He lifted Martin’s hand with his own, touching the wall beside his bed. Immediately, the Tundra’s vibrations echoed through him, mournful, delighted-- everything at once.

He heard Martin gasp and held him tighter. “See? You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

 


End file.
